Rinse and Repeat
by QueenTigris
Summary: War changes everyone and thing it touches. Even the most surprising ninja cannot escape unscathed, especially when he has lost everything to it. However, he has a chance to get it all back again. Can he overcome fate the second time around? Past NaruGaa.
1. Wrong Place, Wrong Time

**A/N:** With Behind the Sun, A Political Arrangement, and the occasional Nightly Friend, what am I doing starting a new story? Well, I can't stop me. This idea has been simmering in the back of my head for way too long.

Also, take note that Naruto isn't exactly his usual happy self. There is a reason for this, and it's not that I don't know how to write him in character. There will be a revolution to his old self, but for now you will see him in mourning, basically. (He's also half crazy, I think I made him schizophrenic by accident...)

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine.

**Rinse and Repeat**

**Chapter One: Wrong Place, Wrong Time**

* * *

He woke with a start.

Gasping, Naruto bolted into an upright position, and spun a full three hundred and sixty degrees.

However, he quickly deemed the martial stance he had assumed to be unnecessary, as there was no threat to punch in the face. His hands slowly dropped to his sides, relaxing from the lethal spades to just hands again, fingers twitching in his nervousness.

Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Naruto studied his surroundings more closely as the adrenaline subsided.

It was a smelly, dank alley, nothing more than a niche between buildings, with fire escapes above and several trashcans lining the walls.

He blinked up at the sliver of sky he could see between the brick walls rising on either side of him. It was a day overcast by clouds, but his internal clock told him it was early morning.

He couldn't remember how he got there. Which was worrying.

_A flash. The sound of flesh hitting flesh. Fire. Blood. Chunks of stone and plaster to be dodged as the structure collapsed around his ears, but the fight went on. And red. Red everywhere._

Naruto blinked, suddenly seeing the alley again.

Was that a memory?

He looked down, feeling misplaced. A memory of yesterday? What had happened? However, something told him that what that was had occurred a very long time ago.

He startled then, suddenly realizing how close the ground was.

He was on his feet, wasn't he?! Then why was the ground three feet closer than it should be?!

Looking down, hoping he wouldn't dread what he saw, he found his legs to be intact, thankfully, only... small.

Naruto blinked.

Feeling his panic rising, he brought his hands up for inspection.

Sure enough, they were in the same condition as his legs.

Small. Uncalloused.

He turned them over.

Unscarred. _Delicate_. Like a child's hands.

And they _were_ child's hands.

He ran his hands over his face and chest, searching for the smallest detail to prove that discovery wrong.

It was _all_ wrong.

He slapped his cheeks, marveling at their soft roundness. Gone were the hard, rugged angles of manhood, no more were the numerous scars of a shinobi career survived.

He looked down at the child's body that was now his own, lifting up his shirt to see the seal. Which wasn't there.

He almost went hysterical for a moment, before the new shot of adrenaline sent a spark of chakra through his system, alighting the faint outline of the spiral as it passed through the coils it traced.

Naruto took a deep breath, calming himself again. These days the seal was always present, a testament to the Kyuubi's growing presence. He felt his cheeks again, only now noticing the absence of the pronounced furrows of his thickened "whiskers." They were again as they had been in his childhood, if his fingers felt the truth, barely noticeable indentations that gave the impressions of shadows lining his face in the right light.

He dropped the hem of his shirt, and rubbed his thumb over the tip of each of the fingers of the same hand in turn. Dirt ground into his skin refused to give way.

He was filthy. He was weak— missing the hard-packed muscles he had spent years conditioning. And— his stomach rumbled— he was hungry.

If this was a genjutsu, it was the most detailed he had ever come across; and it must have been powerful if Kyuubi, a natural illusionist, had not already dispelled it. Plus, he didn't think there was anyone still alive with the ability to so perfectly recreate his childhood.

However, despite his growing doubt, Naruto brought his hands together in his signature tiger seal, just to make sure. He gathered the chakra from inside himself, readying to release it. However, it burst from his grasp, leaving his body with a literal bang.

Naruto blinked up at the gray sky from his new position on his back.

He hadn't even had the time to say, "Kai!"

He hadn't lost control like that in... he didn't know how long. These days, losing control— even the smallest mistake— would be fatal.

However, as he picked himself up and saw that his self and his surroundings were unchanged, he started to doubt that _these days_ were the days he was thinking about.

But this wasn't right! Naruto was a grown man. He had grown up with everyone else— Sakura, Sasuke, Sai, Lee, Neji, Shikamaru, Temari, Kankurou... Kakashi, Iruka, Jiraiya, Tsunade— everyone. And he had seen them die. And each death, every time he failed to save one of them, he aged. He didn't think he even knew how to be young again.

"_Age is relative, really." he mused in a monotone. "Sorrow, rage... death. These things make you older."_

_I wasn't listening to him, really. His voice was just a distant rumble that I nodded to occasionally as he stroked my head absently. It was warm in his lap._

"_And laughter... happiness... love— these things make you younger."_

_I opened my eyes then, grinning. "I guess that makes us no older than boys."_

_He smirked; his fingers brushing my cheek. "Not quite that young, maybe, but young enough."_

Naruto leaned into the touch, purring, and wanting more. However, he stumbled, and realized there was nothing.

Gritting his teeth, Naruto looked upwards, willing his tears to recede.

There was no lap on which to lie, no loving fingers to caress his skin, no soft lips to claim. Never again.

Glaring forward in determination, afraid to close his eyes in fear that he would be assaulted with the memory of his cooling body cradled in his arms, Naruto started towards the end of the alley.

He was a ninja. It was his job to persevere, even when he felt like curling up in a corner and crying himself to sleep.

It was brighter in the street. A few pedestrians were about, the early risers only now appearing in this quiet square.

But he knew their numbers would soon multiply, the sound level would increase, until it became a busy boulevard by noon.

He knew because this was Konoha. And he knew Konoha like the back of his hand— or at least what used to be the back of his hand.

But this couldn't be possible.

He had seen the village in its final moments, as it burned, filling the sky with black, choking smoke. And he had been their until the last of the fires sputtered and died, and the places was left a silent, charred landscape. And Naruto had found then, searching the ruins desperately, that he was the only one left.

Konoha was no more.

He grit his teeth, grinding them as his fists clenched, and he willed himself calm. _"To become angry over nothing is pointless. And to become angry without focus is folly."_ He took a deep breath to push away the anger that bubbled up over the sight of Konoha again— uncaringly displayed by some illusion's trick. Could he be imagining this? Had he finally become so unhappy with reality that he had hidden himself so deep in his imagination that he couldn't even get himself out?

Another breath, and he was still. He had learned long ago to school his emotions, as it had become more and more necessary as the influence of the demon inside him grew stronger. He could take all that anger and bottle it up, to be released when it was needed.

When he opened his eyes again, there were four masked shadows surrounding him.

"Come with us," one of the ANBU said, "the Hokage wants to see you."

Naruto narrowed his eyes at the anonymous ninja. He had never trusted the ANBU, and he wasn't about to put his faith in this preposterous reality he was trapped in, but, despite the veiled hostility he could smell coming off the shrouded ninjas, he guessed the best thing to do was follow along until he had this thing figured out.

* * *

"So, Naruto, I've recently been informed that you ran away from the orphanage again." The old man leant back in his chair behind his desk, parting his lips with each exhale to release a puff of smoke.

Despite the fact that the man was trying to prompt him to speak, Naruto was too awed by the sight of him to get past gaping openly.

Years had separated him from the death of the Sandaime, but that time had only served to distill in him a greater respect for the man— the first to ever give the little demon child a chance.

And this _had_ to be him. Every detail was perfect. Naruto had not forgotten the only light bringer from his childhood, no matter how infrequently he had seen him. The sight, the smell, the sound, the discrete twinkle in his wise eyes— it was all the same. No human had the imagination to replicate a picture so perfect.

Unless... the illusionist wasn't human at all.

"Naruto? Do you hear me?" Sarutobi removed his pipe from his mouth, and leaned over his desk, squinting at the wide-eyed child. "I asked you: why did you run away?"

Naruto blinked, forcefully bringing himself back to the present. "...Why?"

The Hokage chuckled, and replaced his pipe, but inwardly, he was grimly trying to decipher the blonde child. "I wonder, why run away from a warm bed and free food, huh? You never tell me why you so vehemently prefer to sleep on the streets where it is cold, digging through garbage for food, eh?"

Naruto tilted his head to the side, remembering. He had always hated the orphanage; it was an unhappy place for most of its charges— but especially for him. As soon as he was old enough to understand the concept, he had sought to escape it.

"Because it's better."

"But why? Is the orphanage really so terrible?"

Naruto scowled, disliking that he had to dig up memories better forgotten to explain. "They locked me in the basement or a closet in the weeks between your visits, or outside when it was cold, and fed me only intermittently. They turned a blind eye when the other kids taunted me and even once encouraged them to throw rocks. I was neglected to the point that my growth was stunted due to poor nutrition. I had a better chance of survival on the streets than in there."

The Sandaime Hokage was staring at him openly by the time he finished. "Naruto... is this true?"

He was getting angry again. "Why? Do you think I'd lie about that?"

"...No, I suppose not." Sarutobi leaned back in his chair, sinking into thought. "I just wasn't aware..." he blinked suddenly. "Wait, did you say your growth was stunted?"

Naruto nodded.

"How would you know that, Naruto?"

Ah, that was right, he was in the form of a child, so it was not as easy to tell. "How old am I?"

The Hokage frowned, but decided to play along. "You are eight years old, Naruto."

Eight, huh? That was about twenty years wrong. "And how old do I look?"

Sarutobi's brows furrowed. "Well, you..." he frowned deeply, taking in Naruto's full form all over again. He was ragged, dirty, and much too skinny. The Sandaime decided he would have to look into that starvation he claimed his caretakers had put him through, regardless. He was also small. But was he too small? Comparing him to Konohamaru, his four year old grandson, he looked... almost the same age. But Naruto was eight, and four years made a big difference in a child's growth.

Naruto grinned sardonically as the Hokage's eyes widened in realization. "So now you see, huh, took you long enough."

"Naruto, you— why haven't you told me this before?"

The blonde shrugged and scratched his head, remembering again. He had been young and proud. And well-used to fending for himself. Whining had never gotten him anything, but further punishment. "I didn't think it would help anything."

Sarutobi sighed, and Naruto noticed a slight droop in his shoulders. "Naruto, I've told you before, I'm here to help you. All you have to do is tell me."

Of course, Naruto understood this now. However, twenty years ago, as an eight year old already used to harsh unfairness of life, all he knew of the old man was that he occasionally brought gifts and smiles and people treated him a little nicer when he was around. But Naruto hadn't even understood the concept of asking for help, such ideas had only brought him trouble before.

The Hokage rubbed his face tiredly, before regarding anew the child standing in front of his desk. He felt the remorse again, that he had failed so miserably to fulfill the Yondaime's dying wish, and the life the child deserved. "It's a good thing I already made the arrangements. You won't have to go back there, Naruto."

The blonde snorted. "Like you could _make me_."

The Hokage frowned. Naruto was usually a happy and agreeable child, when he wasn't being obnoxious and stubborn. But there now seemed to be a rather... bitter and guarded gleam in his normally open and innocent eyes. Sarutobi was struck with another pang of regret and sympathy. "I've set up an apartment in your name, and I'll also be giving you an allowance out of my own pocket, so that you can buy yourself food and necessities." The Sandaime was inwardly mournful that he had no way to directly care for the boy, what with his busy schedule and no willing sitters. Eight was too young to be taking care of one's self. "And also... I've negotiated to get you into the ninja academy."

He paused there, waiting for the tiny blonde's explosion of joy.

Naruto blinked. He remembered this day. The ANBU had dragged him into the office kicking and screaming, and the Hokage had given him this very same news, despite the face that he had kept his mouth shut on what had been done to him at the orphanage. He had been looking forward to his entry into the academy for a long time, and his reaction had been in typical Naruto fashion— loud.

But that was old news now. "Uh, thanks, I guess," said he warily, after the silence had drawn out.

"Hm," the Hokage sat back again, looking disappointed.

He jumped up then, after having come to a conclusion, and practically twirled around his desk in his haste. Naruto had not been aware the old man was still capable of such agility.

"Are you hungry, Naruto?" The Sandaime knelt down on his level, a strange, pained urgency in his wizened face. "Would you like some ramen? I'll buy you as much as you want."

Naruto blinked, still feeling that strange misplaced sensation. He _was_ pretty hungry. If this were the day it was being made out to be, he hadn't eaten the day before either, most likely. "Yeah, sure,"

* * *

"Well, here it is." the Hokage handed Naruto his key. "I know it's not much, but I'm sure it's much better than the street."

The blonde nodded absently, taking in his empty living room. The kitchen was on his right, he knew, and his bathroom and bedroom on his left. Also to his left was a door out to the roof onto a small balcony, which held a great view of the sunset in the evenings.

This would be a home to many lonely nights.

"I've already had the cupboards stocked, and I've left some furniture for you. There's plenty of ramen to last you at least a week. I'll be sending you an allowance weekly," Sarutobi rummaged through his pockets, before handing Naruto a thick envelope. "use it wisely."

Naruto nodded, already calculating the number and quality of weapons he could buy with the money in that envelope. At least one good set of kunai and shuriken, ten meters of ninja wire, and as many explosive notes as he could get would be his first order of business. Explosive notes were only sold to shinobi by law, but he knew ways and places to get around that. Hunting for food would cut living costs, and was enjoyable survival training. One got used to supplying for one's self very quickly in the war-stricken world he was used to.

He looked up as he noticed the Saindaime had stopped talking.

"Naruto..." a wrinkled hand fell on his shoulder, and the blonde's gaze slid away from those pitying eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't intervene sooner.

That was new.

The Hokage knelt down to his level, and gripped his bony shoulders. "I won't let anything like that ever happen to you again, understand? Just next time, tell me sooner."

Naruto's brow furrowed as he studied the Hokage's earnest expression. "...okay."

* * *

Naruto remembered his first day at the academy. However, instead of having to find his own way, the Hokage insisted on walking him there this time.

Sarutobi had been abnormally... clingy the two weeks or so since Naruto had woken up in the alley. The fox child could smell a mixture of emotions on him that were normally hidden under his wrinkled exterior. Worry. Regret. Pity.

The Sandaime had visited him at least once a day, making sure Naruto had what he needed, and offering to buy him things.

It confused Naruto, as the Hokage had never visited him so frequently in the past. The illusion— whatever it was— was very accurate, but was deviating from the natural order of his life. Perhaps telling the Hokage his troubles had changed the timeline? His doubts that he was in an illusion at all grew. It just felt _real_, and Naruto had always had a good sense for figuring out genjutsu, thanks to the Kyuubi. However, he didn't have any other explanation for the phenomenon.

"Do you have everything you need, Naruto?"

The tiny blonde glanced up at the Hokage. "Yeah,"

The academy was only a few meters away, and other children were saying goodbye to their parents all around them, just like he remembered.

The Hokage seemed to falter for a moment, reaching out hesitantly for the child. He settled for ruffling his yellow locks. "Make sure you stop by my office afterwards, Naruto. I want to hear everything about your big day."

Naruto rolled his eyes. It wouldn't be good news, that was for sure.

"Hokage-sama!"

Sarutobi's attention was diverted, and the weight of his hand lifted from Naruto's head. "Ah... Yamato-san,"

A familiar ninja walked up to them. "I didn't know you were coming today!" He bowed at the waist. "We will make arrangements immediately—"

"That won't be necessary." The Hokage waved him off demurely. "I'm just here to drop off Naruto."

The chuunin's eyes lowered to the small form beside the Sandaime. Naruto could smell the loathing. "Ah, yes, Uzumaki Naruto will be joining my class this year." It was a bland statement, but the Hokage couldn't see the disgust the ninja unveiled on for the demon child.

Naruto's first year teacher at the academy had earned his disrespect early on. He had made Naruto leave class during lectures using any excuse he could find— from accusations of being disruptive, to the untimely cleaning of the chalkboard erasers, and he had always failed to supply Naruto with a partner during taijutsu practice, and kunai during target practice. It was a good thing Naruto knew everything he had to teach this time around.

"Yes, he's looking forward to what you can teach him, Yamato-san." The Hokage had never known anything about it.

"Of course, Hokage-sama," Naruto could smell the falsity of his smile. "Come, Uzumaki, I'll get you a desk."

Naruto followed the deceitful chuunin, knowing that his desk would be in the far back, and missing one leg.

* * *

As predicted, Yamato-sensei did not have a partner for him come taijutsu practice at the end of the day. However, instead of sitting on the sidelines, waiting for a partner to be freed up like Yamato-sensei said, Naruto decided to go off on his own.

He was used to being alone, after all, especially during training.

Naruto paused, his fist impacting the wooden training dummy painfull— he definitely had to train this body until it could handle the fighting style he was used to, or he'd be useless.

However, his mind was not on the pain.

"_Come on! Let's spar!"_

"_No."_

"_Just a quick match! It'll be fun!"_

"_I have things to do."_

"_I won't keep you long, I promise!"_

_He closed his eyes briefly, before glancing at me askance. "You're very persistent."_

_I laughed. "You know it'ttebayo!"_

_His lips twitched, a flash of that brief half-smile I had come to crave. "Fine, one match."_

"_Yatta!"_

Naruto grit his teeth, and punched and kicked the post with renewed vigor, ignoring the splinters and blood that flew past his eyes.

He couldn't help but to remember.

"_Naruto..."_

"_No— don't try to talk! I've got you, you're safe now."_

_He gasped for breath, gripping my shirt in his pain. I wanted to hold him tighter, to squeeze him so he knew that I would never let go, but I didn't want to give him any more pain. "We've fought together... for a long time..."_

"_Save your breath! We just have to—"_

"_Naruto!" he coughed, his grasp on me desperate. "We— don't you see— there is no more 'we.'"_

_My panic rose. "No, I'll find a way to— I stopped to listen to his weakening voice._

"_For so long, it's been just the two of us. We are the only ones left." He winced, going stiff in my arms before falling limp again. "And now— ah! —and now... it's only you."_

"_No! You're not gonna die! I won't let it happen!"_

_He smiled painfully, his white teeth covered in a bloody sheen. "Naruto, it's too late, you know that."_

"_No! You can't die!" You can't leave me!_

"_You— you've always been— stubborn."_

_I sniffed. "You're stubborn, too! You can get through this!"_

_He shook his head, his grip on me tightening. "I've already held out— ugh... long enough."_

"_No—"_

"_Naruto," he gasped. "Listen to me!"_

_I quieted, so that he could continue._

"_We've— we've been fighting for a long time." He reiterated. "But... we can only fight for..." He gasped, and I tensed, wishing there was something I could do. "... so long." he finished at last._

"_What are you trying to say?"_

_He gave me that painful smile again, his hazy eyes telling me I already knew that. "You still have enough chakra... don't you?"_

_I was angry again. "No! There's no way I'm leaving you!"_

_He shook his head, panting weakly now. "N-naruto... please, you have to... you're the only one... who can fix this now."_

"_N-no... I can't!"_

_With his waning strength, he reached up to cup my cheek, tracing the ragged scar there, left by red-hot flying shrapnel eight hours ago. Now, I barely noticed it, as it was already healed. "Naruto... we've failed... everyone is... everything is... gone. And now it's up to you... to fix it." He spoke with frequent starts and stops, as his breath came erratically._

_I shook my head, tears running tracks through the dirt and blood on my cheeks._

"_Go back, Naruto, and fix it."_

"_N-no! You—"_

"_Stop worrying about me!" His hand dropped limply. "This is about more than—" he paused, and I held my breath, praying he hadn't taken his last. "—me."_

"_You shouldn't be talking."_

"_Naruto," he smiled weakly again. "What did I just say?"_

_I quieted to let him speak._

"_I... love you."_

"_I love you, too!"_

"_I know that, now be quiet!" I tried not to notice the constant stream of blood now dribbling from the corner of his lips. "We've had some... good times together, but..." he trailed off, and his eyes closed._

"_Hey? Hey! No, no, no! Baby? Talk to me!"_

"_Stop panicking. You're no use when you panic." His eyes opened again. "You understand, don't you? We have only one chance left, and _you_ have to take it."_

"_Without you?" I was starting to understand, and I hated the idea already._

"_Without me, yes."_

"_No! I can't!"_

_He winced, and I stilled, watching him carefully in those final moments. "Naruto... you have a chance to fix all this. I know... the jutsu is dangerous, and may not work at all... but you... have... you have..."_

_I sobbed his name as his eyes drifted shut again. "Don't leave me!"_

"_Just..." I leaned down to hear his faint mumblings. "... promise me... you'll just... take the chance. For me... for everyone..."_

"_Okay," I kissed his unresponsive lips. "okay, whatever you want." I didn't care that his blood was smearing my face._

"_Naruto..."_

"_Yes?!"_

"_Why... are you... still here?"_

"_I can't leave you now! I'll do the jutsu, damn it! But you can't ask me to leave you now!" I bit my lip to withhold the sobs threatening to overtake me. I brushed his vibrant hair from his face, waiting for those soulful eyes to open and take me in again. "Baby? Come on... baby?!"_

Naruto's fist impacted with the post, which by now looked like a giant beaver had taken a go at it.

After that, all he remembered was red.

Had he done the jutsu? Was he really in the past? If so, he had missed the time he wanted to land in by a whole decade, plus, the jutsu was not meant to change his body. He was supposed to be placed in the time he desired with his old body intact. Or so they had assumed, according to how the demons had described it.

He fell to his knees, only now realizing the extreme pain of his new, tiny, untrained body after a training session which would normally not even cause him to break a sweat. He grit his teeth as he flexed his fingers, irritating the open wounds on his knuckles. At least they were already healing, but he'd have to clean them to speed it up.

The entire reason they had avoided the time traveling jutsu was because it was entirely too easy for the thing to go wrong, and they didn't know exactly if it would work at all, beyond blowing them to bits.

"Gaara..." he panted, willing his overwhelmed body to calm, and looking up at the sky, which was a merry blue today— how unfitting. "I have a lot of work to do, ne?"


	2. Beginning Again

**A/N:** Next chapter! Here, we delve a little deeper into Naruto's mind and emotions, and we see how without direction and drive he is. All he's got left is his determination it seems, but that can only take one so far. This is kind of the "settling in" chapter, as Naruto still has to get used to his new (or old) surroundings, so there isn't too much action. However, it does have a lot of interesting revelations that I'm sure will keep the entertainment value high. Enjoy!

**Rinse and Repeat**

**Chapter Two: Beginning Again **

* * *

It was easier than he ever suspected to fall into the rhythm, and Naruto soon found many things to occupy himself with

It was easier than he ever suspected to fall into the rhythm, and Naruto soon found many things to occupy himself with. From the moment the academy got out to his collapse in the evening, he trained. He usually slept wherever he fell, which made it easier to start his morning hunt for breakfast, while simultaneously acclimating his body to the will of the elements.

For the time being, Naruto's top priority was physical training. Until his body could take the stress his fighting technique demanded, and then some, Naruto knew his ability to defend himself was compromised— and failing now, after he had come so far, and a had a chance to do everything right for once, would be unbearable. He knew all he needed to win a battle, but knowledge would only take him so far.

With a grimace, he remembered Shikamaru's gruesome end. He didn't want to go like that. Knowledge was only one thing in battle, out of many.

However, today the rhythm was broken.

"Well, Naruto, if I knew you were going to spend most of your time in the woods, I would have given you a cabin in the forest rather than the apartment."

Naruto frowned at the Hokage over his breakfast, and decided chewing his meat was more important than a reply.

The Sandaime crossed the clearing of training ground two to sit beside the blonde. "You haven't come to visit me recently. How's the academy?"

Naruto shrugged.

Frowning, the Hokage glanced over the scene surrounding Naruto. There were the fading embers of a cooking fire, a bloodied hunting knife, and discarded entrails. He looked back at the child, grimacing at the sight of the blonde pulling the meat off the bones of some poor creature with hands and teeth. "Is that... a rabbit? Did you catch that yourself, Naruto?"

The boy nodded briskly, snapping a clean bone to suck the marrow.

"Did you clean and skin it yourself?"

Another nod.

"And where did you learn these skills?"

Naruto threw down his finished meal, all the tasty bits gone from its bones. He turned to the Hokage, licking his lips, and noticed the suspicious scrutiny of the Sandaime's eye.

He had figured his sudden change in behavior would cause trouble eventually. However... _"I don't want you to smile unless you mean it. Promise me that."_ He had other things to worry about, rather than acting like the hyper idiot of his youth. He wasn't a kid anymore.

He was a ninja.

"Book."

The Sandaime's eyebrows rose. "A book? You read a book?"

Naruto pretended to be affronted. "The library is open to everyone, isn't it?" Actually, it wasn't. The librarians had always been sure to keep him out. However, when he was eight, had hadn't even known how to read, so it didn't make a difference to him. But nobody knew that, not even the Hokage, because no one had cared to notice.

"Ah, I see... You've been busy, Naruto, hm?"

Naruto shrugged. The Hokage could think what he liked, as long as he wasn't thinking that Naruto was being possessed by his demon or something. He had been possessed enough times to be wary of even the possibility, even if it was only in other people's minds.

"I hear you've been training almost non-stop for the past couple weeks." prompted the Sandaime. "Any reason for the sudden urgency?"

"I have to get stronger."

Sarutobi smiled crookedly. "Your impatience remains, I see. Has Yamato-san taught you well?"

Naruto scowled, but he nodded anyway. Trouble would set his schedule back, and the Sandaime didn't need to know the details of his life anyway. He had survived his own life by his own means once, and this time around he had the advantage of knowing what to expect.

"Good, good..." the Hokage nodded, and studied the blonde for a moment more. "Well, I do have work to do..." he turned, but kept Naruto in the corner of his gaze. "Why don't you come by my office this afternoon? I've yet to see you in my office since I gave you that apartment. Have you gone clean, Naruto?" The old man smirked.

Naruto smiled just slightly, with only his self-restraint keeping his face from twisting into a sadistic grin. "I just don't have time for pranks, old man." Contrarily, he had tons of time for them. In fact, he set aside a couple hours just for that every Sunday. However, he just happened to be far more discrete than he had been as a child. Besides, he doubted the Hokage would appreciate having to punish Naruto for his recent pranks, and Naruto definitely didn't want to have to owe several hundred thousand ryou in property damage. All of his victims deserved it, anyway.

Sarutobi blinked. Though he would never admit it, he had missed being addressed with "old man." He relaxed a little, maybe Naruto wasn't so changed after all. "Well, I suppose that would put the townspeople at ease." He turned away. "I hope I'll be seeing you, Naruto."

The blonde watched him go, noticing the new felicity in the man's step, and knowing he had something to do with, but not knowing how. He realized he didn't know all that much about the Sandaime. The fact that he could say he was his first friendly acquaintance from his early childhood said a lot about his social activity. Naruto sighed quietly. He had other things to worry about, he had made friends once, and lost them, and now he had to concentrate on saving their lives. His social network and its renewal would have to wait.

He wouldn't have time to visit the Sandaime. It was Saturday, and that meant shopping, and stealth and chakra control combo training— all in one.

He wasn't sure why the time travel jutsu had messed up his chakra control. His body was one thing, but his mind was another, and other than that, his intelligence seemed intact. However, he was glad progress in that area, now that he had experienced it once, was going much faster. Even his smallest, least demanding jutsu were useful.

* * *

When Naruto was a child, the market had been a very scary place. With the glares of the bustling crowd, and the stalls that would be mysteriously closed whenever he came by, the atmosphere was quite hostile to the little Jinchuuriki. Thanks to this, Naruto had sought out other places to buy his necessities. Considering the upscale shops chased him out, young Naruto had had to rely on the shadier back-alley stores. This meant his food was generally bought close to or even past the expiration date— yet another reason ramen was his ideal meal back then, since it had no such limitation— and his ninja equipment was old or faulty. And all of this was sold to him at inflated prices. However, what really hurt was that it had taken Naruto years to figure out he was being cheated at all.

Naruto wouldn't put up with that this time, especially when he knew ways to get around it. He would shop in the method he had gotten used to, and make some great bargains in the process.

"Ah! Naruko-chan! Did you like the special apples I gave you last week?"

A basket full of goodies over her arm, the busty Naruko giggled and blushed cutely. "Oh, Shaami-san! They were delicious!"

The shop owner grinned, and as was ritual by now, reached behind his stand to pull out a little bag. "Can you guess what I've got for you this time, Naruko-chan?"

"Oh! You spoil me! At least let me buy something first!"

Those silly merchants. It was so easy; all it took was the right pose at the right time, and they fell head-over-heels for Naruko's impossible body. They were all perverts, the lot of them.

Naruko walked away from the stall with more free stuff than she needed, and the ever-present gleeful smile on her face.

The only difficulty was in holding the henge for so long. He had the chakra reserves to hold it for days without pause, but it was really a matter of control. If he lost his focus for even a moment, the illusion of the busty blonde would dissipate, leaving behind a tiny, unwelcome Jinchuuriki in the middle of the crowded market.

"Naruko-chan! Come see what I've got for you today!"

The blonde turned and skipped toward the stand where Naruko had gotten her supply of clothing and cloths for herself and her "nephew." She got a couple stares as she frolicked across the boulevard, but most of them came from those of the male persuasion, and were centered on her bouncing bosom.

"Sobi-san! I was almost going to pass you by! I don't think I have any clothing need today..." She cocked her head to the side and pouted cutely.

The merchant's eyes sparkled at the sight of the Barbie doll posing in front of his stand. "Well, I know how you like bright colors, and I just got a shipment in today..." He disappeared for a moment, before popping up again with a package wrapped in canvas.

Sobi flipped the cloth package open, and Naruko's breath froze in her throat.

It was orange. Bright, obnoxious, traffic cone orange. It was made of a stiff, water and heat-resistant cloth that still managed to be almost silent whenever a movement would cause the material together. It even already had a spiral patch sewn to the shoulder.

It was his.

Naruto remembered the day he had found it, lying on top of a pile of garbage in one of the dumpsters he frequented. To his child's eyes, it had seemed to glow, and not just because of its fluorescent color. Ninja wear was expensive, and far beyond his meager means at the time. He didn't care about color, all that mattered was that he had found something to wear that could withstand the stress of a mission, and— he had found out later— blood and grit and other unpleasant substances would wash out of easily.

For one which good fortune usually overlooked, it had been a miraculous stroke of luck for young Naruto, despite the ridicule he later endured for his beloved orange suit.

"Oh, this! Not this, it's just a bonus item the company I order from wanted to get rid of. I'll just be throwing this out—"

"No!"

Sobi jumped as the orange fashion mistake was suddenly gone from his hands. He looked up at Naruko with wide eyes. "I have some scarves for you..." he tried hesitantly. "I thought you'd like..."

Naruko wasn't listening. Her hands were shaking, as she held the orange jumpsuit. She hadn't been mistaken. This was it.

"I want this."

"Na-naruko-chan?" Sobi didn't quite know what to do with the usually cheerful girl suddenly looking so pensive. "Is it maybe for your nephew? If that's the case, I have something much better—"

"How much? I'll pay anything."

The merchant flinched, shrinking under the unyielding sapphire gaze. When she looked like that, Naruko was a little... scary. "Uh— you can have it, I guess. For free. I was just going to throw it away—"

"Thank you, Sobi-san!" The blonde chimed, bending at the waist with the jumpsuit clutched to her chest.

"Ah, but Naruko-chan! I have these—"

"Bye, bye, Sobi-san! I'll see you next week!"

"Ah... but this cloth came all the way from Mist country..."

* * *

That evening, after a much-needed, stress-relieving training session, Naruto came home.

The suit was laid out on his bed, as he had left it.

He stared at it for several minutes, before giving in to the urge to put it on.

It fit just like he remembered, the pants would always be too baggy, and the shoulders would always be tight in the wrong places. Even so, it felt like a second skin. He had grown up in that jumpsuit.

Naruto took his time with the last zipper, and then he stood there for several more minutes. Orange sleeves encroached on his palms; it would be a couple years more before he would really grow into the jacket.

Finally, breathing deeply, he turned to study his reflection in the mirror atop his bureau.

There he was, Uzumaki Naruto. Hokage, future, past, and present. Jinchuuriki to the Kyuubi no Kitsune. Hero to the troubled. Protector of the weak. Keeper of the Kazekage's heart.

And the Demon Fox of Fire Country. The Warrior Trickster. The Orange General.

The image in that mirror would strike fear in the heart of anyone not on Konoha's side in twenty years, and even many of those who were.

By then the five countries and more would know the stories of the destruction left by his Bunshin army, disposable soldiers of infinite numbers, all exact copies of the original, who was formidable even alone.

He had once conquered and occupied the capital of Iwa with his fluorescent battalion.

Once ridiculed for his fashion choices, the orange became a fearsome color as long as he wore it. Enemy ninja fled at the sight of his bright silhouette.

His hands clenched, but he didn't notice the painful dig of his fingernails in his palms.

This jumpsuit was the mark of a great ninja, a veritable god on the battlefield, a murderer. Blood had darkened its bright color so often that eventually he had forgotten there was a difference between orange and red.

"_Naruto! What are you doing?"_

"_Cleaning." I gruffly replied, intent on my task._

_Shick-ick-ick. Shii. The kunai did not go smoothly through the cloth, but he persevered nonetheless._

_Slender fingers wrapped around my hand, stopping the kunai's jerking journey. "I think water and soap would better serve that purpose."_

_I grit my teeth, trembling against the surprisingly strong grip of that small hand, though I could have broken it if I wanted._

_The hand with the kunai was gently pulled away from my torso, where I had been slicing away the stained orange from my cursed skin._

_Gaara pried the weapon away with a scowl. "You're being ridiculous."_

"_Let go of me!" I snarled._

"_Naruto..." sighed he._

_I flinched as he brushed his lips across my knuckles. I knew it was supposed to be a comforting motion, but I couldn't bear it. I tore my hand from his grip. "Don't touch me!"_

_But I was sorry for doing it, as hurt flashed in his eyes, before being hidden behind opaque teal. "You're being ridiculous." he repeated._

"_I'm sorry..." I mumbled, seeing him closing himself off from me was even more unbearable than his touch. "I— don't want you to get dirty." It sounded crazy, now that the words had been spoken. And even crazier considering he had killed more than I in the battles behind us._

_However, the beautiful thing about Gaara was he always came away clean. The sand devoured any splatter from his crude techniques, leaving him as if he had never committed any act of murder or cruelty._

_Gaara gave me an amused look, and snatched my fingers again. "Dirty? What if I _want_ to be dirty?"_

_His grip was unyielding this time as he unfolded my hand, but my fingers still trembled as he rubbed his cheek into my palm. His flawless skin against the filth there— ground in dirt, sweat, and blood. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I also wanted more of that contact, a selfish indulgence though it may be. His touch was like distilled calm, cooling the hellish heat of my skin._

_I flinched as his lips enveloped first my thumb, then each of my fingers, sucking gently. He finished with an amused look my way, and twirled his tongue in the shallow valley of my palm, before going on to follow the vulnerable underside of my arm all the way to my elbow._

_I was so focused on the path of that wet muscle, that I jumped when I realized he had wrapped an arm around my waist to move closer._

"_Gaara..." I called uncertainly, as he so skillfully slipped into my reluctant embrace, that I wondered how he had gotten there. Even so, my arms wrapped around him, and crushed our bodies together nearly against my will._

_He chuckled as I buried my nose in his hair, desperately gasping his scent. He smelt like he felt— my reprieve._

_I flinched again, going still as I felt his fingertips on my bare pectoral, tracing the outline of my heart where I had turned my jumpsuit to ragged strips._

_He blessed the spot with a chaste kiss. "Naruto... you've certainly made a mess of yourself."_

_I swallowed as his lips followed the circular scar over my heart to my collarbone. I had killed and tortured, won and lost in the worst ways, such that it was a surprise I hadn't broken sooner. I was the luckiest man in the world that I had someone to pick up the pieces._

"_Let's get you cleaned up, hm?" His tongue darted out to explore the hollow of my throat, and I made a soft, needy sound._

Naruto grit his teeth, knowing that there was no redhead to hold, but hugged himself anyway.

He had turned his eyes from the mirror, even in his childhood he had avoided his own reflection, as it was so easy for him to pick apart his own cheer. However, that habit was by now ingrained in him to such a degree that going against it simply felt unnatural.

He would have to get rid of that mirror, or at least hide it from himself that no unintended glimpse would remind him of the monster he had become.

Naruto slipped out of the jumpsuit so fast, he might as well have just jumped out of it. He stood there for several minutes in his underwear, staring down at the crumpled pile of fluorescent material at his feet.

He should destroy it. He _wanted_ to destroy it.

But even he knew such an indulgence would not stave off the future to come.

Besides, deep down, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it. Even if he could barely stand it anymore, there were still good memories that he had experienced wearing that jumpsuit, even if they were from long ago, from a time that didn't exist anymore— even before he left his own time.

"_Weren't you the one that taught me to take the good _with_ the bad?"_

Naruto flinched, screwing his eyes tight. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand it, to have his words echoing in his head, but knowing there was no body left to voice them. No lips left to shape them. No breath left to carry them.

He gasped, opening his eyes with the realization that the scream echoing in his ears was his own, and that according to the pain, his fingernails had broken the skin of his palms.

Willing his eyes not to tear— he had cried enough, already— Naruto dared let his gaze fall upon the orange monstrosity again.

He fell to his knees, hands shaking as he reached for it.

How could he forget? In this timeline, the jumpsuit was as of yet unstained.

The voice was back, really just a remnant of an old conversation, but even out of context it fit within Naruto's thoughts. _"The past is past. Nobody can change that. But you can change the future, all you have to do is try."_ Of course, this was a unique situation. Naruto's past was also his future. Gaara had urged him to change it, to throw a wrench in the wheel of fate.

"_You don't believe in fate, Naruto."_

He flinched, but chuckled lightly. "You're right, it's hypocritical..." he said aloud, not caring that it might make him look crazy.

However... he wasn't so sure if he, just one person, could single-handedly change the course of the world. Sure, he was the number-one surprising ninja, a genius of hard work.

But hell, he didn't even know where to start. He knew the next great shinobi war would begin in more than a decade, and even if Naruto put all his efforts into strengthening Konoha's forces and defenses, it would still fall. He had learned from experience that even if he planned and prepared to the utmost, the enemy would find a way around it.

Also, he wouldn't get the political power he needed to strengthen their alliances and negotiate peace until after Tsunade died, which would mean the war would have already been well under way and Konoha would be too afraid of losing to protest her successor as Hokage, the Kyuubi no Jinchuuriki.

What could he, Uzumaki Naruto, who, at this point in time, was generally considered the village pariah, _do_?

"_Why don't you start at the beginning?"_

How unhelpful. How like Gaara, the ever enigmatic child of the desert.

Naruto sighed, looking down, where his hands grasped the rough material of the beloved and hated jacket.

He lifted it up, until it was level with his gaze.

As of now, no matter what his own eyes saw, it was a clean, flamboyant, horribly bright jumpsuit. If he walked out in the streets wearing it today, it would be seen more as a clown suit than the mark of a hardened killer.

He swallowed pensively, and brought the cloth to his face. He smelled the factory starch, and the faint scent of plastic.

It was brand new.

* * *

The next day, he wore it.

Despite the fact that he had to stow away that wretched mirror, lest he glance at his reflection and shudder at what he saw, he reveled in the familiar feeling.

He got incredulous looks in the street, was struck with disgusted stares from passing ninja, and was the brunt of numerous jokes from the children, who were cruel in the way only children could do innocently—but he loved it, it was like coming home again.

It really was the beginning.


End file.
